The Quest by Christopher Nicole

Author:Christopher Nicole [Nicole, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2018-11-15T05:00:00+00:00

Vengeance

“Tremendous,” Gorman said. “Just tremendous. The Serbs are over the moon, and they give all the credit to you, Berkeley. You sucked those IMRO people into your trap, and closed it. Brilliant.”

Berkeley sighed. “I doubt they were very high in the IMRO organisation, sir.”

“What matter? It was a victory over the terrorists. Everyone is pleased about that.”

“And I did not regain my daughter.”

“Ah. Yes. That is very sad. You think they murdered her, do you? The bastards!”

“I think she’s alive,” Berkeley said.

Gorman raised his eyebrows.

“But I don’t know where,” Berkeley went on. “I suspect she’s been sold.”

“White slavery, eh? There’s a lot of it about, especially in that part of the world. But . . . what can you do? What can we do? It’s a damnable world.”

“I can keep looking,” Berkeley said.

“But if you don’t know where to start . . .”

“I have several leads. Principally this man Antonov.”

“But isn’t he in Bulgaria?”

“I believe so.”

“And a member of these IMRO people. You’d be committing suicide.”

“Not if I am adequately disguised, sir. I came home after the shoot-out in Serbia not only because the deal with the Serbian police was that Lockwood and I would just quietly disappear, but because I knew that there would have to be a good deal of preparation before I could enter Bulgaria safely. I intend to make those preparations as quickly as possible, and then return.”

“To look for Antonov. Who is, presumably, another of these people who have sworn to kill you, in revenge for his wife. Suppose he won’t come out of the woodwork? What then?”

“We had a breakthrough in Serbia by using Anna’s photograph. I believe we may have another breakthrough, again by using the photograph.”

“Where, do you suppose? If this Antonov woman has convinced you that the girl is no longer in Bulgaria?”

This Antonov woman, Berkeley thought, recalling that crumpled heap at the foot of the tower. Another death to add to his growing list. Another futile death, there was the rub. Fruitless to believe that she had killed herself less to escape him than to avoid what Bobich and Savos would have done to her once they got her into their cells. Fruitless to convince himself that she richly deserved everything that had come her way, including that final fall. The fact was that she was dead, and that he was no nearer finding Anna.

“If I cannot locate Antonov, I propose to look in Greece and Turkey,” he said.

“That’s a very long shot.”

“Apart from Antonov, it’s the only lead I have, sir.” Berkeley laid the envelope on the desk.

“What’s this?” Gorman asked.

“My resignation.”

Gorman did not open the envelope. Instead he tore it in two and dropped it into his waste basket.

“I do not intend to give up the search for my daughter, sir.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. But I’d still like to keep you on our books. Do you realise, Berkeley, that you have probably had a more profound influence on European affairs, at least in the Balkans, than almost any man alive? And nobody even knows your name.

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